


(TITLE MIGHT CHANGE SOON) D.M.C.H.S.

by the_bees_tales9229



Category: Devil May Cry, DmC: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Magic, Minor Character(s), Multi, Non-Linear Narrative, just having fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24332977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_bees_tales9229/pseuds/the_bees_tales9229
Summary: "DMC x DmC crossover High School AU non-headcanon anything-kinda-goes story...Idk what's gonna happen here but this is just raw unadulterated lazy fun fanfic writing."- Greg, writer, friend, lazy.I am merely his publisher as his fanfic is already in Fanfiction.net under the same...title(?). This is basically his DMC non-committed side project. This summary might change soon as well.
Relationships: Kyrie/Nero (Devil May Cry)
Kudos: 2





	(TITLE MIGHT CHANGE SOON) D.M.C.H.S.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you’re all safe despite all these modified rules of ‘reopening’. Wash your hands and get checked.
> 
> **song references: ‘See You At Your Funeral’ by PUP
> 
> ***also, can you spot any Capcom game references?

Chapter 1: Oh Boy

**_“The days blur into one and I float around the edge of them_ **

**_Searching for something that’ll make me feel alive again_ **

**_These past few weeks, in a hell of my own creation_ **

**_I try vegan food, I take up meditation!”_ **

The sharp punk music blares on his trusty earphones, a distraction from the dark and, secretly, very emotionally-charged thoughts on his current situation. Police Commissioner Gaiman Morrison drove the sedan smoothly across an unfamiliar city’s street, in a place Dante is going to get used to...which his body is silently protesting against. But the school week had already started; he’s a new transfer student.

_ Oh boy, we know where this goes… _

Morrison had already tried to reassure him the school is going to be great for him, especially for his student records and his future. That he can see the care center again and see old friends and encourage them the same thing that’s being done to him; that it’s his turn to become a  _ role model. _

He gags at the thought. Hearing the strange noise in his throat, Morrison looks over to him and shakes his head with a smile. “We’re almost there. Make sure you don’t say something that’ll get you into trouble. Please.”

He wasn’t begging. It’s almost like he  _ does  _ expect him to do something that would turn Orientation Week inside out. Mr. Morrison is a funny man; his two occupations couldn’t have been  _ severely  _ the opposite of each other, but he does it and he has the authority, and he  _ fucking  _ gets away with it. Including protecting him and getting him a  _ normal life _ , and helping him find out about his parentage...as well as with his  _ particular twin sibling,  _ but that’s too big a fish to offer to the sushi master. Right now, he gets Dante a little Japanese maki to start.

And he took it. He didn’t want to disappoint, which he can’t admit.

“I’ll try not to blow up anything.” He promises, glancing at the old man.

He smiles at him, but it becomes a smirk. “Ah, Dante. Don’t you worry a thing! You got this in a cinch! This is your only year in high school, anyway! Your whole homeschooling and the Talents Program commends a lot on your achievement. Plus, your psychiatrist really thinks it’s time you move forward. And that’s  _ from  _ the psychiatrist who once thought you’re a true lost case!”

Dante clears his throat. “Correction: she  _ told  _ me that I would be a lost case if I continued hunting demons without actually taking precautions and minding the repercussions of each action I take. Those were the  _ very words! _ ”

Morrison laughs. “See?! And look how far you’ve come!”

Dante admits it with a sly grin. “I hope you’re right.”

“We  _ are.”  _ The older man assures confidently. “It’s just the jitters, my dude! You’re nervous.”

“No, I’m not.” He defends. “And don’t say ‘my dude’.”

The older man laughs again and Dante goes back to enjoying his music, his way of coping with his still protesting body. He  _ really _ doesn’t like being in a new environment. Rooder City reeks of a different caliber of an urbanscape and culture, having rural areas and lots of forests. It’s modern, but very unlike Limbo and Enamel City, which he had  _ definitely  _ left a mark, despite turning a new academic leaf and a very safe rehabilitating care center that vouches for his deeds. Of course, it’s his life; he’ll try not to let his past catch him in its horrible web again...

**_“I hope you’re doing fine on your own_ **

**_Coz after everything we’ve been through_ **

**_You better hope!_ **

**_You’ll find someone, and you’ll try, but you won’t_ **

**_Coz after everything we’ve been through_ **

**_Oh baby, I wanna know!”_ **

The townhouses and buildings gave way to meadows and lowland valleys, framed by groups of trees and hills. Soon, however, the open green area gave way to more woodland and there is nothing but the deep color of the myriad of foliage and trees that whizzed past them as they near the destination.

Dante smirks at the dossier before him, looking at the young face of a man who’s about to transfer from a care center to this snobbishly-prestigious boarding school. He tried not to laugh.

_ Now where have I seen this plot before? _

They both have the same name, and he must say, he had come from such a similar hell hole as this kid. However, he feels grateful nothing too horrible had personally happened to him, so perhaps that’s one smidge of a difference they have. And thank god for the Vie De Marli and their fast actions to save this kid. He can’t say the same thing about his twin, however; he chuckles.

_ Can’t say the same thing about mine, either. But I’m afraid their nefarious schemes are not something I’m putting priority for now… _

After all, putting this kid in this school is no academic coincidence.

He puts down the file and checks the watch, next to a small portrait of a blonde woman, and realizes it’s almost time. And he receives a knock on the open door as a ginger-haired student greets him. “Coach! The new transfer student’s here!”

“Thanks, Kyrie!” He says as she walks off to take over his orientation duties for him to greet the new kid personally, here, in Alyssa Hamilton’s Boarding Institute.

He stands up and takes his large red coat, slung casually over his shoulder. Walking past ogling students whose hormones are understandably dictating their taste, he nevertheless greets them with a polite gesture before hurrying down to the main lobby and out the main entrance. Already, a lot of people are whispering about his arrival...and his appearance. The kid’s a ruggedly good-looking one and, judging by some of the not-so-secret screeching from the girls and gays from just his peripheral, they’ve made up their minds.

He looks devastatingly out of place, despite the well-groomed uniform and the school’s implemented hair style for the boys. He merely stands there just outside the grand gate after having just been left there by his warden, whose car is already out of view, thanks to the myriad of trees this wooded area has. On the middle of his uniform, slung around his neck is a tag, and on it are the large red words: ‘UNACCOMPANIED MINOR.’

Humiliating.

Even before he closes the distance, the kid’s eyes are on him already. Holding a brochure of the school and with his bag slung behind him, the glum expression on the transfer student is everything that’s making him a bit sympathetic.

“Dante, right?” He asks the kid rhetorically, a smile on his face. The kid isn’t taking it well. They stood face-to-face, their heights already matching despite his young age, as he watched the kid put the effort of being  _ content  _ enough to be here.

“You already know.” He quips dryly. “Can we just get this over with?”

Still with a smile on, he tells him to follow and does his best to make small talk pleasant for him. “Yep, let’s get started. Don’t worry about the whole campus being like this. Orientation Week ain’t anything but casual. So, first things first, you’re gonna have to meet the headmistress. She’d like a few words with you, then after that, I’ll get you a quick tour and you won’t have to be at Homeroom for now, where most students are getting to know scheduling. But since it’s already Day Four of Orientation Week, you’ve got catching up to do.”

He makes a noncommittal sound about the whole thing, which is fine by Dante. He smirks at the kid beside him, who catches it. The venomous look the kid’s giving him is just making him feel happy.

“What?”

“Oh nothing, I was just thinking about how people are going to get confused since we have the same first name, is all.”

The weary look across the young man has him chuckling, but he answers, “You’re called  _ coach _ , right?”

He nods. “I’m substituting, actually. The right coach...got into a mess and, well, he’s at the hospital.”

Another noncommittal sound and a reply, “yeah, well, I’m sure by the time he’s ready to get back, you’re gone from this school and I’ll be the only guy here named Dante.”

_ Ooof! _ He’s sure the kid wasn’t being a low-hitting son of a bitch, as he can tell from his glum expression and being such a teenager, that he was being  _ literal _ about the future case, but still...that stings. So his only response is an awkward chuckle.

When they make it to the headmistress’ office, they have to wait in the lounge room as Headmistress Lucia is talking on the phone. Dante can only imagine the possible topics she’s discussing there: the school’s funding on a new project; the library’s capacity...the _problem_ _regarding security…_

The kid’s listening to his music, staring out the tall window and probably lost in thought; there’s nothing but more woodlands and meadows outside, and just a few kilometers away, the actual school walls. From his posture alone, he can definitely imagine how he’s itching to get out of here.

“Professor, Mr. Portinario,” the secretary calls to the two of them as the headmistress becomes available. Inside, they are greeted with a beautiful, crimson-haired woman sitting gracefully at her large office chair behind a dark wooden desk. Beside her is a student, blonde-haired, freckled and pretty. Their poise speaks nothing but sternness, especially the headmistress. The kid looks down at the folders before her and his eyes narrow in embarrassment and annoyance, recognizing that she had been reading on his file.

“Welcome. And thank you, professor. But remain here.” She says with a crisp tone. “My welcome will be sobering and short for our new transfer student.” She looks at the student beside her, who nods and presents a few objects across the desk for the kid to take. His official ID and a school handbook...and something else, but—

“Here’s your school ID and the handbook.” The blonde student says, almost reciting. “In it, you are assigned to Senior Class 2. Since it’s Day Four, you’ll have your first official homeroom tomorrow instead.”

The kid has been staring at the objects presented to him, but there’s a bright pink slip tucked underneath the handbook. Dante’s smile widens and the blonde student, taking note of his face, looks down at the objects and, in shock, hurriedly takes the pink slip away from the desk and hides it behind her! Flushed pink, she still manages to dictate with the same stern tone. “The handbook is curated to personally show students their schedules and assigned dormitories, as well as the rules and regulations of the school and the campus names of those who’ll nurture your academic and extracurricular activities.”

Dante couldn’t help but snicker and glances away to hide his widening smile.

“Oh come off it,  _ Professor!”  _ The blonde student snaps, which made the kid glance at him.

“Patty!” The headmistress’ voice cuts through the whole situation and the two of them immediately straighten up, with the blonde student—Patty—looking apologetic. “Enough of these antics and  _ schadenfraude!  _ This is not the ideal example we are usually known for, but nevertheless, this slip-up is a mere symptom of Orientation Week, Mr. Portinario.”

With her attention now locked-on the kid, his head glances back at the authority figure before him. And boy, he looks glummer than before.

“Rest assured, Alyssa Hamilton’s Boarding Institute is among this region’s most exemplary secondary educational settings and prides itself over ensuring even the most unruly is set straight to have a career path that will break expectations. Your very rough upbringing is upsetting but certainly not an excuse for any violations that can occur and  _ should not occur! _ They will be severely dealt with if the matter becomes out-of-hand and that would put you back in your schooling. And I know you don’t want to be left behind.”

Glancing at the kid, he does notice him wincing.

“From records alone, you are indeed a polarizing individual. Your  _ reputation  _ will surely be around, and I can’t guarantee how there won’t be a perceptive student or individual who will recognize you and your former  _ misdeeds _ . Of course, any violation against you, they shall be reported immediately. Rest assured, your residence here as a student protects you, so long as you do us a favor by not misbehaving.

“On the boon of this issue, you are a very talented young man. Your homeschool teachers and tutors have run out of things to teach you and have been doing their best to send their students in their care programs to better educational facilities. As I’m sure you’re aware of... _ supernatural phenomenon _ , one of the deciding factors as to why you’re transferred here is the advantage of this school’s area.”

“I’m in a rural part of this city, yeah,” he suddenly chimes in, putting the headmistress in an astonished situation. And he can’t say he wasn’t surprised. He continues, “Putting me at a distance from where...the  _ misdeeds  _ happened is your way of psychologically protecting me.”

Regaining her composure, she answers. “Perceptive. Are you also aware about...the recent crime your twin has done?”

“Lucia,” Dante interrupts, a hand gesturing for her that she likely crossed a line. “I think we get it now.”

Glancing at the kid, there was a barely-there look of pain, but he seemed to sweep it aside and remain quiet. Taking a breath, the headmistress continues, “Apologies. Anyhow, some of your caretakers, including your warden, Mr. Morrison, comments on your discomfort of moving here. I sympathize about you being moved in this new environment, but know this is for your sake and for your future. I expect great things from you, Dante Portinario.”

Another wince from him, but he mumbles a “Thanks, ma’am,” before the headmistress moves on in her closing words.

“Good. Now, you should go along and see the whole school for yourself. Get acquainted with what’s to offer and make new friends. The dormitories and the refectory are great places for you to socialize. Do you have any questions?”

“Yeah, are the dorms sex segregated?” He asks.

And  _ boy!  _ That earned him a cackle from the substitute coach! The headmistress and Patty are both displeased; the kid, however, looks serious and she focuses on that.

“Each floor of the different halls is, Mr. Portinario.” She answers with a very severe tone. “I’m  _ glad  _ you asked. Anymore?”

He shakes his head and, from there, the headmistress stands up. “Then that’ll do. You may leave and enjoy the tour. Professor Sparda, do know your place of authority is that of dignity and respect, not an excuse to make fun of your students.”

Gesturing his right hand in oath, he speaks, “I promise to not be indecorous in any future happenstance.”

Patty scoffs, looking miffed at the professor as the two men retreat to the door and exit. As they leave the office, Dante whispers to the kid regarding the pink slip. “D’you see that?”

“It was just an ad for a milk tea maid cafe,” the kid answers, uninterested. “Don’t tell me you’re being a pervert.”

“No, no, no,” he assures, although the kid glowers at him, unconvinced. He changes the subject, “Okay so, better take that embarrassing tag off and wear your ID. I’ll show you the multi-purpose hall…”

Inside the head office, the headmistress sighs a long breath before rubbing her temples. “I wish Credo gets better faster.”

The quick tour turned out to be more pleasant than he expected, though the eyes and voices of some students and other campus bodies are inescapable. The headmistress was right about perceptive individuals, though he had expected that kind of behavior more to freshmen than actual juniors, seniors and adults milling about in groups, once talking loud then becoming hushed when they saw him. They greet the coach amicably, solidifying he has a ‘cool’ reputation among the students. It doesn’t escape another fact that, as a very attractive man, the young men and women aren’t hiding their affections to the coach. As cringey and awkward it is to stand meters away while some of the students took their sweet time talking to the Legendary Coach, he does get a few minutes to appreciate the view. He does admit it, though he’ll let Morrison know at the  _ end of the school year _ , that he has fallen in love with the place. The people? Well, he’ll have to see soon enough…

He had decided to put on his earphones again, as he glanced behind him to see that Coach Daddy is trying to dampen a bunch of recently legally-aged students’ spirits regarding a ‘hang-out session’ somewhere, when he felt that instinctual prickle—!

He extends his arm  _ immediately _ , his hand going for that object that could’ve gone for that gaggle of students who’re still trying to persuade the Coach! He had caught that wayward object  _ speeding  _ off in an unpleasant direction! It could’ve hurt someone!

And it looks someone from far off had thought of that too late! “Hey! Yo! Sorry! Give it here!” The student yells as she runs to his spot.

In his hand is a frisbee, with its edges sharpened as he takes note of the thinness of its edge. It could’ve potentially cut someone’s face off!

The Coach took notice of it and walked close to him, taking the frisbee from his hands. He actually looks pissed. “What the hell is this? Hm, Nico?!”

The one who was calling and running towards him pants and holds an index finger up. “Real sorry abou’ tha’!”

“Besides almost making an accident, you were clearly doing something unallowable in school grounds.” He scolds as he glances to where she had been. Out here in this well-manicured grassy field, where students and adults mill about, sit, play and run, a lone laboratory-like set-up is propped, looking out-of-place with its technical objects making up its foundation. Dante makes a face as he looks impressed with it. But Coach continues, “Ms. Goldstein, you know you can use the laboratories if you have your permission slip.”

The girl looks livid, her glasses unable to hide that twinkle in her brown eyes, as she explains herself. “But coach! My guinea p—I mean,  _ friend _ was taken away to become a candidate for this year’s Student Council campaigning project!”

“What? What does that have to do with your frisbee?”

“My friend’s usually the one doing the field testing for me! But now…” Nico’s anguish is so palpable, as she looks at the ground in defeat, he thought she should join the Drama club. “He’s going to be... _ too busy! _ ”

The weary groan from Coach is both hilarious and sympathetic. He wasn’t prepared to deal with one of his weird students right now. “Okay. Look, the thing is, I’m just gonna reprimand you. Anymore and I’ll actually give you an official warning. As for your ‘field tests’, can’t you also have that notated for your permission slip? You know, your science teachers are looking forward to your experiments, maybe they’d be happy to do it.”

“No!” She suddenly bursts out. “They’re good people, coach, but they don’ ‘ave the right  _ arm strength _ to do field tests, nor even survive some of my... _ experiments _ , so no. I can’t endanger the very people teachin’ me!”

“ _ Pft. _ And she’s willing to endanger her friend…” Dante murmurs as he rolls his eyes away. Nico caught a few of his words and zeroes in on him.

“Whad’ _ you _ say?!” Her anger has her stepping close to him, fuming at his mocked oblivious expression.

Two large arms separates the two of them, but mostly protecting him from Nico’s anger, as the Coach cuts in. “Ok, cut that out. Nico, please, have your experiments in the labs. Get your friend back from the student council, I’m sure they won’t keep him there long. God knows that kid’s not into politics, either.”

“He’s doin’ it to impress his girlfriend, so I understand.” Nico tells him, her tone actually becoming concerned. “But he’s also got a good record and the student council needs some new blood to represent ‘em, ‘specially the male student body.”

“Well, there ya go,” the Coach pipes up enthusiastically. “I’m sure you can get your friend back in no time. But make sure those frisbee tests are in the labs!”

With a happy salute, Nico zestfully answers him, “Aye, aye!”

Now the issue closed, her bespectacled face gradually turns to him, although it’s short-lived as the coach redirects him back to touring. So Dante glances away, uncaring whether Nico was there or not. “Alright, back to the program…”

“Ooh, ooh, where ya goin’?”

Dante had to leash that groan that almost rumbled out his throat. The Coach answers her as they walk, “Touring our new kid to the dorms.”

He snarled at the older man and walked faster. He can hear Nico whispering about him now, but he was going to ignore them. He had half the mind to run, but it seems he got beat to it. He can hear Nico’s running footsteps come closer. He didn’t expect a hand coming to his back, however, and her bouncing right in front of him.

“Coach says I can tour you around m’self!” She says excitedly.

He didn’t know what to feel about that sudden hand-over. He glances behind him and sees their Coach waving them off before leaving them to be.

“He’ll be back, so don’t ya worry!” She assures him, her enthusiasm rubbing him in a way he wasn’t expecting.

“Uh, what about your frisbee thing?” He asks her.

Turning to him with a beaming smile, she answers, “ _ You  _ can throw and catch ‘em later. We’ll do those tests on the Labratories! It’s pretty cool! My friend can catch up tomorrow! Besides, you were the one who caught the frisbee! Coach says so!”

Taking his hand and pulling him towards the first dormitory building, Dante lets her pull him eagerly, even smiling at how she tugs at his sleeves enthusiastically.

“C’mon! I’ll show ya my room! Then you can see yours!”

He was just trotting back towards the main school building, taking glances back at the two students as Nico takes Dante inside the first dormitory hall—Asura’s Hall—and giggling at how the young man was practically yanked inside the building. He had been so engrossed about his chore that he got one of the students trying to locate him around campus, and when he found him, he was told he forgot his phone in the teacher’s faculty. He’s an old fashioned kind of guy, but the gadget being forgotten was his lapse of judgment. He knew certain people were probably messaging him already.

And right in cue, a familiar figure walks out of the main school and begins walking to his direction. Her unmistakable long blonde hair and grace makes her so recognizable; and just like how most teenagers react to him, the boys and girls part and ogle at her bewitching beauty.

“Dante,” she calls his name, her face sour and holding up his phone. It was an older type of smartphone, smaller and a bit bulky. “Forget your phone again and I’ll make you never forget about the suddenly empty alcohol bar back in your office.”

He winces. “Ooof, no need for drastice measures. I was just excited to meet my name-twin.”

“And how is he?” She asks, a warm smile on her face.

“He just got dragged by Nico inside Asura’s Hall. I’ll go back now, since the only reason I was going back was for this.” He tells her as he waves his phone.

As he turns around, his blonde colleague clears her throat, cuing him she’s not done speaking to him. “Does he... _ know _ why he’s here?”

A long sigh escapes him. It’s difficult, really, knowing that the eventuality of such a problem is going to rear it’s ugly head soon. He chooses his words carefully before speaking, “The kid’s perceptive, Trish. He’s been through a lot. He’ll know eventually. And we have our duties.”

The blonde woman, Trish, crosses her arms, concern wrinkling her forehead. “When can we... _ talk  _ to him about it? We can’t do our potential if he’s in the dark.”

“We’ll have to discuss the whole matter together.” He tells her. “Right now, the kid just transferred and people are whispering behind his back about all those things that’s happened. This is his big break.”

“Yeah, well,” her concern gone, her smile widened into a playful one. “As one of the Social Studies professors, I’m gonna make sure he  _ breaks  _ out of his mold and prove just how good he is, according to commendations from his tutors.”

He rolls his eyes at her. “Come on, the kid’s supposed to learn here. This is still a school, not your meritocratic wet dream.”

Her only response to his comment was a huff and a flip of her blonde tresses. “Dante, you really are just a substitute. But don’t worry, the kid’s going to  _ learn _ , so that’s something right.”

“Yeah, okay…”

He was going to turn and leave, when she spoke his name again. Her tone reverts back to being concerned again.

“Hm?”

“Hmm...no, nothing. I should speak to Lucia about this. But it’s going to take a while…”

“Well, you know bureaucracy,” he comments nonchalantly and decides they should end the conversation here. “Catch ya later, Trish.”

“Alright.” She waves goodbye and retreats back to the main school.

Opening his phone, he sees a few text messages from Commissioner Morrison, telling him he’s waiting at the refectory of the school to pick up Dante soon. There was another one from Morrison, regarding the  _ topic _ he had just discussed with Trish.

_ Oh boy... _


End file.
